


Promise

by Phil_O_Story



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Explicit Language, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26575282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phil_O_Story/pseuds/Phil_O_Story
Summary: The words that formed on one's skin during adolescence would be the first words their soulmate would say to them and promised a deep connection between the two. Soulmates often knew when each other were near or when they felt especially strongly, among other things. Usually, a soulmate became a best friend, a life partner, or some sort of family member, but not always.
Kudos: 3





	Promise

Anne had just turned ten when she first noticed the spots on her chest.

“Mooooom!” she called from the bathroom.

There was clattering, hurried footsteps, and her mom’s voice calling back, “Yes, sweetie? You alright?”

“I’m dying,” she said matter-of-factly, opening the bathroom door.

Seeing that her daughter looked and was mostly acting perfectly normal, Anne’s mom, Louise, tilted her head and waited for her to elaborate.

“I have skin cancer.” Anne flourished a hand around the patch of speckles over her heart.

“Honey, you’re too young to have skin cancer,” Louise frowned as she knelt to examine the offending marks. “Maybe some of the ink soaked through your shirt.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “No, Mom. These spots are _black_. Andrew threw the _color_ cartridge at me, _not_ the black one. It was the _color_ cartridge that exploded all over my shirt. The _color_ inks bled through my T-shirt, but _not_ my chemise.” She reached back to grab her shirts to show her mom, not noticing that her mom’s tight frown had widened into an amused grin until she turned back.

“Mom. I have cancer, and you’re laughing?!”

Louise’s laugh was clear and full of warmth and mirth. “No, honey. This isn’t cancer,” she said as she stood up. “It’s worse. It’s puberty,” she smirked. “Why don’t we let your brother shower first, and you and I talk about growing up and bodies changing and soulmates.”

Anne just frowned.

“C’mon, I’ll make tea, and we can have a bite of your birthday cake from yesterday. Put on your clothes and come down. I’ll tell Andy on my way down.”

A few minutes later, Anne walked down the stairs to the kitchen with her eyes glued to her phone, which had been new a month and a day ago, when she started middle school. But she kept putting it in the pockets of her jeans despite it having slipped out over a dozen times. Whenever her mom nagged her to put her phone away in her backpack or a zippered pocket, she retorted, “Just give me the jeans that Andy’s growing out of faster than he’s growing into ‘em. That can be my birthday present since you’ve already spent all that money on this phone just a month before my birthday.”

Louise had just placed the empty kettle back on the stove. Two slices of cake were on the island counter along with two empty cups and a teapot with the smell of jasmine emanating from it.

“Anne.”

“Mm?”

“What have I said about walking down the stairs?”

“Yes, Mom. I’m watching my step.”

“Silly as you may be, I don’t think that you’re watching your step through your phone camera.”

Anne sighed dramatically as she looked up at her mom.

“Yup. Definitely puberty,” Louise muttered to herself. To Anne, she said, “I assume you’ve just looked up what puberty is.”

“Yeah, and it makes no sense!” Anne flopped onto a stool in front of one plate of cake. “Like, yeah, there’s a lot of things still unknown about puberty in terms of biology, but it all has to do with a body growing into adulthood. How the heck do _soul_ mates fit in? That has nothing to do with a person’s body. And languages are made up, not natural! How do _words_ fit in?”

Louise smiled fondly at her younger child. “Why don’t I give you a brief but possibly less disjointed and probably much less scientific rundown?”

Anne shrugged and picked up the teapot.

“Give it another minute to steep, honey,” Louise said before taking a deep breath. “OK. Where to start. Puberty. Yes.”

Louise explained how people’s bodies developed around their teens—caveat that the age of onset and length of time to finish were different for different people. She also talked about emotional, mental, and social development. There was a brief and to-the-point mention of sex, protection, and smart decisions. Then she got to soulmates.

There wasn’t really much scientifically known about soulmates. Mostly just stories put together, legends, trends, et cetera. Case studies had associated the soulmate connection with the brain, especially the frontal lobe, which in hindsight was obvious because it was also associated with many features of personality. The integrity of the skin was not particularly important—the words would form or reform over scars, wherever the words made their mark. For most people, soul words began forming around puberty, but there was a trend for this happening later and later in life with the advent of long-distance travel and communications. The words may also form later—or earlier—if there is a large age difference between the soulmates.

Practically speaking, though, the important point is that words would gradually form somewhere on the skin. These words would be the first words one’s soulmate would say to their match and promised a deep connection between them. Soulmates often knew when each other were near or when they felt especially strongly, among other things. Usually, a soulmate became a best friend, a life partner, or some sort of family member, but not always. Occasionally, a person may have multiple soulmates.

Louise wrapped up with a life lesson. “Relationships take work, after all, even if there’s an innate connection. I mean, there’re plenty of biological families that fall apart and plenty of found families that are tighter than your grandmother’s hugs.”

Anne nodded as she finished her cake and took a sip of tea. “Oh, great. I was worried for a second there. I looked up 'puberty marks,' which led pretty much immediately to soulmates, and everything was romantic and fantastical.”

Louise sighed as she swallowed a bite of cake. “Yeah. This is one of the reasons why puberty should be taught earlier and more practically in school. I should have known and given you the talk earlier. Also the whole sex thing. They affect lives from a young age and ignoring it doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen!”

“So, this person doesn’t _have_ to be the person I marry," Anne reiterated. "Doesn’t even have to be in my life. But can be. And even if they are, they don’t have to be anything more than an acquaintance. Or they can be my best-est friend ever. Or maybe it’ll be a mentor-mentee relationship.”

Louise nodded as she took another bite of cake.

“How will I know? Or is it a ‘what you make of it’ kind of thing?”

“Yeah, it’s what you make of it.”

“Who’s your soulmate? Do you know?”

Louise paused for a moment. “Your father.”

Anne groaned. “For real?”

“Yup,” Louise popped the “p”.

“But he cheated on you and used you and left us. How fucking connected can you guys be if he can hurt you so much?”

Louise gave Anne a pointed look.

“Sorry.”

Louise sighed. “It’s what we made of it. I kept wanting us to have a relationship, so I let his mistakes and wrongs slide over and over. Our connection meant that we could more intuitively understand each other, but it didn’t promise that we automatically cared about each other.”

“That sucks.”

There was some companionable silence as Louise finished her cake and they sipped tea.

“Oh,” Louise piped up. “I should mention that it’s common courtesy not to go around asking people about their soulmates or words. As your mother, I advise you to share yours with discretion. Sometimes, people aren’t the best people they can be and may try to use your words against you.” Louise took a deep breath before continuing. “Anyway, yours is on your chest, which will start growing in soon if your age and words are any sign. As much as I respect your choice to dress how you like, as your mother, I’ll always worry about how others will treat you because of how they perceive you, so here’s the one nudge I’ll allow myself to you in hopes that you’ll choose clothes from the ‘socially acceptable’ box.”

Anne patted her mom’s hands reassuringly. “Can’t promise how far puberty will take teenage rebellion for me, but I’ll try not to jeopardize my life. Anyway, Andy’s teenage rebellion phase seems to be pretty short—he’s not so bad as he was four months ago.”

Just then Andrew loped down the stairs and said, “Is the talk about the birds and the bees done?” Noticing the plates and crumbs, he complained, “Hey! you guys had cake without me!”

Louise chuckled. “Just a small piece each. You can also have a small slice now, but dinner will be ready in less than an hour.”

“Mom. I’m a teenage boy. I’m always starving,” Andrew said as he took out the cake from the fridge.

Louise raised a disbelieving eyebrow as she picked up the plates and cups to put away. “Really. How about two days ago when you and Carmen had a bunch of snacks at the movies even though you were going to come home for dinner?”

Andy ducked his head sheepishly as he went to grab a knife. “Yeah, yeah, I said I was sorry. You know a teenage boy’s mind doesn’t make the best decisions.”

Louise’s stare was tangible, and Andrew looked up from cutting the cake.

“Sorry. Being a teenage boy doesn’t excuse bad decisions.”

“Yes,” Louise said as she put the dishes in the sink. “But I will give you that a growing body doesn’t make the best decisions about food.”

Anne cocked her head. “Can I ask Andy about his words?”

“You can ask, pipsqueak, but I ain’t tellin’,” Andrew said and licked frosting off the knife.

“Ew, Andy. At least scrape it off onto a fork first.”

“Whatever, pipsqueak.”

“You and Carmen, right?”

“What about me and Carmen?”

Anne rolled her eyes. “Soulmates, of course.”

“We’re friends. Best friends since we were in diapers.”

“And soulmates.”

Andy shrugged. “Sure.”

“You’re lucky. Wish we were all as lucky.” She didn’t say the other sentence at the tip of her tongue. _I wish Mom was as lucky._

“Still have the rest of our lives, pipsqueak. Don’t know how things’ll turn out for us or for you. Just you and your soulmate hold on tight and talk about everything in both your lives — stay on the same page, unless, of course, it’s the wrong page.” Andy ruffled her hair as he passed her on the way to the table and his book of the week, which was _The Two Towers_ volume of _The Lord of the Rings_ and something that he’d read half a dozen times already.

“Hate to interrupt, but Anne, you should go shower before dinner,” Louise said from the counter, where she was dicing onions.

“Alright, Mom, no need to cry over me showering,” Anne said as she hopped off the stool.

~~~

Sam was sixteen when his words finally started coming in. He’d already hit the six-foot mark on the ruler in his pediatrician’s office. He’d had armpit and leg hair for years already (well, maybe just a couple, but that was still plural), and his facial hair no longer grew in odd patches. At dinner that evening, he told his dad.

“My soulmate’s words finally showed up.”

His dad, Charlie, raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything as he continued chewing his pad see ew.

“Can’t make out yet what they say, but it looks like my soulmate will have a whole speech to say to me.”

Charlie smiled.

“Fills up a good chunk of my chest. It might be a nice change, being the one who talks less. Might even be a worthwhile trade-off for not being able to take off my shirt to swim or when it’s hot out.”

Charlie guffawed and served himself some more papaya salad.

“At the very least, I’ll know them right away. The way you and Uncle Nick did. Tell me the story again?”

Charlie grinned and shook his head, pointing to his chewing mouth.

“Now you’re just messing with me, Dad.”

Charlie’s eyes twinkled, but he didn’t speak.

“Must be why Mom’s always away on business trips. How else would she be able to get a square meal before you inhale everything?”

“Hey! Your mom loves me, and I would starve myself before I let her go without a meal. You wound me, son.” Charlie dramatically clutched his heart.

Sam shook his head, smiling. “Should’ve known that Mom, not Nick, was the way to get you to talk. You lovebirds are so in love even two decades later that anyone would swear you have each other’s words.”

“What can I say other than that she hung the stars, polished the moon, and lit the sun?”

“I hope that’s not what you teach your students.”

“But of course it is. What can I teach them but the truth? Of course, I also teach them alternative theories, such as the Big Bang theory and the collapse of dust clouds. Your mom likes me being open-minded.”

“Ugh, sometimes I’m glad when she’s away. At least then I have to listen to only one of you waxing poetic about the other and don’t have to see you guys making heart eyes at each other every few minutes.”

“Oh, son. One day you’ll find the love of your life and understand.”

“Do you think they’ll be my soulmate?”

Charlie shrugged. “Doesn’t seem to run in the family on either side.”

“I guess it’d be nice to have two people in my life who promise to always have my back. You, with Nick and Mom. Mom, with you and Jesse.”

Charlie nodded in agreement and went back to tackling his dinner.

“Do you ever wonder what things would have been like if Mom had your words or if Nick were the love of your life?”

Charlie shrugged as he continued to chew.

“Oh, great, back to me monologuing.”

Charlie laughed with his eyes.

~~~

Anne was twelve when the final period filled in over her heart and her words finished forming. They promised a dash of danger in her first meeting with her soulmate.

_Was the guy fucking trying to run me ov—I swear—sorry. Thank you._

For the past year and a half, ever since she could make out enough of the words, she’d imagined grabbing her soulmate’s shirt and yanking them off the street in the nick of time. Or maybe she’d tackle them and roll them both out of harm’s way. Or she’d gain superpowers and stop a car with her bare hands.

It was fun to imagine finally meeting them and clicking right away. But maybe they’d take years to really get to know each other. Or maybe they’d meet just once and go their separate ways.

In some scenarios, her soulmate was also the person she’d love romantically and who’d love her back, and they’d get married, have two kids, a nice house in the suburbs, and a white picket fence. In some daydreams, they became her best friend. In some bad dreams, they kept tugging at her heartstrings and made her save them over and over from all kinds of trouble. In some good dreams, her mom would get remarried, and Anne’s soulmate would be her stepdad and the best father figure a person could ask for.

But those were dreams. Anne would indulge herself from time to time, but she was growing into a no-nonsense and more compassionate personality. She was moving past her father’s betrayals even if she couldn’t forgive him. Her melodramatic attitude was mellowing out.

She still sometimes tried to push Andy and Carmen into romance, but her attempts were now only half-hearted. Anne still had a feeling that their relationship would eventually turn romantic anyway. They were perfect for each other, and she’d have the sister she always wanted and already had in all but name.

Just before the summer that Andy and Carmen would go away to college together, she fell into a blue period. She wasn’t exactly sad, but there was often a sense of loss that would come out of nowhere. The first wave, in late April, was the worst. It was late on Andy and Carmen’s prom night, and Anne realized that two of her closest people were really leaving her. Granted, it wasn’t a forever good-bye. In fact, it wasn’t really a good-bye at all. They were just moving across the city and promised to visit home all the time.

~~~

Sam was getting ready for his prom when the curve of the last question mark came in.

_No broken bones, scrapes, or bruises? sprains or strains? Ah, but definitely some shaken nerves. Why don’t you sit over here and we get you something hot to drink and warm to eat? Any allergies, dietary restrictions, or preferences?_

He was dying to meet his soulmate, and it seemed that he might very well come close when he did. The person sounded cool-headed and caring. Both good traits to have. They sounded like him—well, except apparently when he met his soulmate, at which time he would clearly have “some shaken nerves”. Sam was sure they’d be best friends—his soulmate’s two most obvious characteristics were the two he most liked to think he himself had.

Sam was also sure that his soulmate would love Clarissa, his girlfriend of nearly a year and the person he was sure was The One. She was beautiful. Her laugh tinkled like bells, she loved dogs, and there was yet to be a math concept she couldn’t master even in the courses she took at the neighboring community college, which had an agreement with their high school. Clarissa was the decathlon co-captain and headed their school’s Red Cross chapter along with him. Sam could see their partnership extending into the rest of their lives. He was thinking of promising her exactly that and soon.

As he tied his tie, he wondered when he’d come across his soulmate. The thought gave him pause. Sam had had his fair share of dangerous antics—heck, he went cliff jumping last weekend and was pushing himself to up his parkour game. He wasn’t easily shaken and didn’t see that changing anytime soon. What if he didn’t meet his soulmate until he was old and senile?

Then he shrugged. Well, in that case, they’d just spend all their time in his retirement together to make up for lost time. Sam was a healthy guy and planned to stay that way; he’d have a good couple of decades in retirement. Hopefully, his soulmate was the same.

Nothing could bring him down that night. He was going to spend the biggest night of his high school years with his closest friends and the love of his life. They were all going off to schools or internships they liked in the coming months. Tonight was going to be one of the markers of growing-up well-done and the start of the rest of their bright-shining lives.

Except life likes to throw a few monkey wrenches into the mix. Maybe also an anvil. Clarissa met her soulmate at prom and started to fall in love with her. She broke up with Sam in the middle of summer, before they moved to different states for college, but they stayed good friends. Prom night was also the night that Madison, one of Sam’s oldest friends, got drunk, decided to drive, and died.

Sam mourned these losses and took college as a chance to start fresh. But sometimes bouts of melancholy would hit him. Dashes of lost dreams and flashes of anger. His parents encouraged him to talk or write through those feelings and insisted that he meet a grief counselor. Gradually, the pain lessened and the grief faded.

He didn’t do so hot his first year, and that pushed him to excel for the next three years. Sam graduated with honors and was accepted to his top choice for medical school. He wanted to prevent loss where he could and ease grief where he couldn’t. It didn’t hurt that he would be moving back near family.

~~~

Anne was seventeen when she got on the train to go away for college. She’d thought long and hard about her options before choosing her school. It was still close enough to go home for long weekends, would get her to live as a “real adult” integrated into the rest of a big city, and offered one of the best financial aid packages out of the schools that accepted her.

Anne was going to figure out her life, learn to dig for truth, and build herself up to speak truth to power. She was going to study journalism with some economics and political science thrown into the mix. She promised to herself integrity and optimism even in the most cynical depths of life.

The hour she got into her new city was also the first time the words over her chest tingled. She took it as a sign that she made the right choice. She didn’t save anyone from being run over by anything that day. Or even that year. But she was moving forward in life.

~~~

Sam was about to enter his second year of medical school when he felt his words tingle. He’d just said good-bye to friends at the train station. They’d come to visit him before school started again for him and before the busy season hit work for them. He briefly looked around, half hoping that he’d recognize his soulmate on sight.

After half an hour of wandering, he laughed and called off the search. His soulmate could be in a neighboring town for all he knew. Even if they weren’t, he probably wasn’t going to find them in the crowd at the biggest train station in the city. But the warm tingles stayed with him for a while and put a hop in his step for the rest of the day. It was a promise of things to come.

That night, he helped save his first patient who had been involved in a car accident, and he thought of Madison. Sam had been an EMT for three years by then, but he’d mostly served on campus or at large events rather than on the streets until earlier that year. Even then, his calls rarely involved vehicular incidents.

Life carried on, and he was moving with it and helping people along the way.

~~~

Anne was in the midst of her final round of midterms when she felt a burst of pride and relief. It confused her. She was in the middle of a particularly difficult question that she had skipped and come back to but hadn’t figured out. That wasn’t something to be particularly proud of or relieved about.

Then she noticed that her chest, where the words lay, was warm and tingly. _Ah. Well, one of us is having a good day. Must be quite an accomplishment. Congrats, soulmate._

The feeling, once she figured it out, helped her relax and see a way to answer the exam question in a way she could be satisfied about. She felt a bit of pride and joy that was her own, both for her soulmate and for herself. _I’ll treat you to a beer when we know each other. Promise._

~~~

Sam had been low-key nervous about Match Day for weeks. Today was the day he would find out where he was placed for residency. His peers were all gathered to open their envelopes together. When the countdown reached zero, he opened his envelope slowly and pulled out the contents with his eyes closed. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes.

Sam could barely contain his pride and relief. He was going stay near family and in the city he’d made home in the last four years.

Then there was a faint sense of confusion that colored the edges of his elation. His chest was tingling. A few minutes later, it was followed by a softer and warmer sense of pride and joy.

He smiled. His soulmate must have felt his happiness. Sam made a silent promise to seek more happiness and share in the wealth.

~~~

Anne had spent her first three years after graduation splitting time between traveling and buried under piles of papers as she followed stories. She was a rising star, if a bit fresh-faced, in investigative journalism and news commentary, and she wanted to add to her skills in reviewing and coordinating stories. Today was her first day working directly under her senior editor and would mark the start of her spending much more time at headquarters. In her new position, she would work as an editor, analyst, and investigator rolled into one.

Anne was excited and had gotten up early. She figured that she might as well go in early and set up her new desk at a more leisurely pace and get her bearings before the first meeting of the day.

The universe had other ideas. Or maybe it was just a New Yorker driving in New York. The guy next to her had seen the pedestrian light turn for them to cross and stepped down even as he was still checking the street to cross. Except he was looking the other way, and there was a driver who’d gunned his engine, trying to catch the tail end of a yellow. Anne yanked her fellow pedestrian back to the curb.

The man stared after the car as it sped away, arms spread wide in disbelief. “Was the guy fucking trying to run me ov—I swear—sorry,” he tried to compose himself as he turned to her. “Thank you.”

Anne blinked. Her hand was still holding his arm.

Then she moved slowly to allow him to push her away as she began to check him for injuries. “No broken bones, scrapes, or bruises? sprains or strains?” Looking up, she saw his face. Pale, eyes wide, and taking a deep breath. “Ah, but definitely some shaken nerves. Why don’t you sit over here,” she gestured to the outdoor seating beside the window of the corner cafe just a few feet away. “And we get you something hot to drink and warm to eat? Any allergies, dietary restrictions, or preferences?”

Sam didn’t speak for a moment as they walked toward the cafe. Then he held his hand out for a handshake and said, “Hello, I’m Sam. Didn’t expect to meet you nearly getting run over, but I have no idea why this scenario never crossed my mind.”

A smile twitched at Anne’s lips as she took his hand. “Hi, my name’s Anne. This was the scenario that crossed my mind most often.”

There was a moment of silence, and Sam let out a nervous laugh as he tried to find something more to say. “Chamomile tea would be nice. I could also do with a warm chocolate walnut cookie—the ones here are to die for. What would you like? My treat—it’s the least I could do after you saved my life.”

Anne tried to give a calming smile. “I could do with some chamomile, too. There’ll be refreshments at my work meeting, but thanks for the offer.”

“Alright, but I pretty much owe you for life, so lemme leave you my number,” he held out his hand to ask for her phone as they approached the counter. “Call me, text me for whatever. It would be great to keep in touch regularly.”

Anne hesitated for a brief moment, but unlocked her phone and gave it to him as he ordered two chamomile teas and a cookie, requesting it to be warmed in their toaster oven.

There was another bit of silence, but more companionable now, as Sam added himself to her contact list and they waited for their order.

“Are you a coffee or tea person? or neither?” he asked as he passed the phone back to her. “I’m trying to cut back on caffeine, but I used to drink basically three cups of motor oil a day. Sometimes double or triple shots of espresso.”

Anne smiled fondly as she recalled memories of home, “My mom loves green tea with jasmine. We grew up on that.”

Just then, their order was called, and they moved to pick up their drinks and his cookie.

“Ooh, that sounds wonderful. Do you still drink it?”

“Sometimes.”

There was a nice quiet as they sipped their tea and headed out and toward the subway station. Sam beamed at her and Anne smiled back.

“So, what’s work? I just got off a shift in the emergency room and showered and switched bags at my apartment—I’m going to blame any lack of awareness on my part this morning on lack of sleep. But mostly going to blame the guy running the red,” he grinned.

Sam’s upbeat attitude and smile despite just nearly escaping death was contagious, and Anne couldn’t help but return his grin. “Investigative journalism. Well, editing now.”

Sam nodded, still smiling. When Anne didn’t elaborate, he said, “Y’know, I always figured that you were a talker, but I think I might’ve been wrong. Just—your words filled up a huge chunk of space on my chest. I thought that someone else would be the talker for once.”

Anne raised her eyebrows in amusement. “Nah, more of a writer than a talker. Definitely a listener and between-the-lines reader. Kinda fits for my chosen line of work.”

Sam laughed. “It does! Have you broken any stories I might’ve heard about?”

“Mm, I haven’t exactly broken any huge stories, but definitely followed up with some significant revelations for some big ones.”

When she didn’t say anymore, Sam chuckled and shook his head. “You really aren’t a talker, are you?”

They’d just reached the turnstiles, and she seemed to be heading downtown while he was heading toward his parents’ house in the suburbs.

“Well, you have to tell me which stories these were and how you investigated them some time. I guess you’re heading into work, right? I won’t hold you up. You have my number—don’t be a stranger!” he said waving.

Anne waved back before turning to tap her transit card.

“Promise!” Sam called after her.

Anne turned back to him with a smile and another wave just as she heard her train arriving and ran after it.

**Author's Note:**

> The year 2020 is proving to be a long roller coaster ride of rising hopes and fallen dreams. I wrote this on a night during a short period of shallowly rising hope, right before a sharp but brief dip. It was brief because the outpouring of support in response brought on a spiteful persistence and feisty hope. I thought it would be nice if the first recreational work I completed and posted could add to or at least mark these sentiments since the theme involves ordinary persistence (which is extraordinary) and comforting hope, so please enjoy and leave feedback!


End file.
